Follow Me Down
by SomethingSimsy
Summary: When Alfred Jones (USA) sacrifices his life in order to save Arthur Kirkland (UK), Arthur becomes depressed. However, when Arthur finds out he can contact Alfred and is able to bring him back from the dead he sets out to do just that! But will their previous dysfunctional relationship get in the way, even to save a life? (T for haracter death, use of mild language, emotional abuse)
1. He was too young - Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters present in this fanfiction or Hetalia**

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"_Arthur!"_

The words still echo in my mind...

I took a sharp intake of breath. I let out a weak cry, a whimper, not wanting _it_ to all end, wanting someone to help me. But there was _nobody _to save me. There _never_ was. I braced myself, and-

Something crashed into my side.

I plummeted to the roadside face-first, barely shielding my eyes on impact, shrieking out of fear, scraping the skin on the back of my arms until they were on the edge of bleeding. I let out a cry, but to my horror I wasn't the only one who did so. It was a man's voice; I was sure, one I was certain I recognised... And then it hit me.

I pounced onto my feet and spun around to face the scene, only to lose my footing again and fall down to my knees. I only caught a glance in the process but it was enough. An intense aching built up in my throat and I could feel a rising pain inside of me. Suddenly the shouts and screams around me started to intensify, rattling around the inside of my head. The sharp and sudden strikes of my breath became muted under the tremendous noises around me. I could feel my chest heaving and my eyes welling. I shook my head, trying to scorch the thought of the two words that kept flashing and burning themselves into my mind. But it was in vain. As I risked a glance upwards once more at the grotesque scene in front of me I caught a glimpse of his face; his sweet, innocent face. He was too young... he was too brave... he... that selfish bastard was too full of himself and his damnable pride! And... his damnable compassion, as well...

_Why would you give yourself up for me...? I don't understand, Alfred. I am... I am forever in your debt. I... I will forever be sorry. It is my fault. Everything. I will never forgive myself, and you should do the same..._

"Arthur."

"Alfred?"


	2. Just hoping - Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters present in this fanfiction or Hetalia**

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"Alfred?" I ask again, frantically looking around me. I don't know why I do this. He's not here. He's dead. He's dead because of me and me alone. I sink back into my bed and lean my head against the wall, propping myself right against the backrest. I slowly remove the pillow where my head once rested from behind me and hug it close to my chest, nuzzling my face into it. "I didn't mean for you to go, Alfred," I say, sniffling, my eyes welling up. "I... it's my fault."

"You're wrong."

I widen my eyes and carefully yet quickly place the pillow in front of me and leap out of bed in a start, vigorously searching the room. I begin to run frantically around my bedroom, throwing piles of clothes onto the floor from the wardrobe, running in-and-out of countless rooms until I find myself back where I started, at the foot of my bed. I finally bend down and press my chin to the floor and tilt my head to the right only slightly, peering under the bed, leaning in closer and closer, just hoping...just hoping...

"A-Alfred? Are you here? Please... please don't leave me again...please." I mumble, defeated, slowly and carefully lying myself onto the wooden flooring, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Why did you have to save me, Alfred? Why did you save me from that car? Look at me," I turn onto my side and curl up into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest, staring in disgust at the unclean floorboards I now lie on. "I'm just despicable."

I stretch my arm out and rub the wooden panels gently, slowly removing a layer of built-up grime. I retract my hand, examining it, then result to just wiping it on my shirt. I release a sigh, one that has been building up for days upon days, and return to hugging my knees, staring at the wall. I glance down at the significantly cleaner patch of flooring when, just for an instant, I see _his_ face.

I roll onto my back and let go of my knees, trying to ignore my hallucinations, stretching out both of my arms again, when I feel something brush my hand. "Al?" I cry. I look over and see a hand rested so gently under mine, but I realise it was just a trick of the light... just my own hand's reflection...

I cry a single tear and soon brush it away with the fabric of my sleeve, but soon it is replaced by another, and another, so I give up trying. I stand up and slowly start to put what I had thrown around in a flurry back to where it came from. I pick up a small soldier figurine and place it as gently as I could back onto the dresser, where it must have accidentally fell from. "Alfred..." I whisper. I look beyond the dresser to the mirror hanging above it, where I see my reflection. In an attempt to fix myself I try to smooth my hair, but it does nothing, so I stop, and collapse onto the dresser. I bury my head into my arms. They are then lifted away from my face. I look up.

In the mirror I see myself, red-eyed, red-cheeked and sniffling. And I also see _him_, stood behind me. But I am not surprised anymore. This happens frequently. I turn around to double-check, triple-check and quadruple-check that he is not there though, and turn back to the mirror. Now, even in the mirror, he is gone.

"I just want everything back to the way it was, even if you hate me... I just want you to be alive!" I shout, my words shrinking into a pathetic whisper toward the end. A lot of what kept me going was Alfred. He's always been by my side when my family wasn't, or anyone else for that matter. I just want him back... I have wronged him so much that it just cannot end with his blood on my hands. I owe him that much, at least. I owe him that tiny amount.

"Arthur..."

I can't take it anymore! The constant whispering and appearances and hallucinations that made me cover my ears and shriek and cry and lose sleep and make me think I'm totally insane to the point that I have to look down everywhere I go just so that when I look up I don't see his eyes staring into mine! I've gone completely insane and I'm just about to go over the edge, I can feel it!

"Arthur..."

"_What?_ What do you _want_ from me? Are you _trying_ to _kill_ me? Are you just _trying_ to push me over the edge? I keep falling and falling and I'm just an inch away from... just... I'm just..." I take a deep breath. "What is it you want? I couldn't save you before and now... are you seeking revenge? I have nothing to give you but my life, so please, just take it. Just take it if it will do anything to help you or anyone else."

"Arthur, if you really feel that way," he says, and I finally freeze for the first time. I stop breathing. My heart starts pumping incredibly fast and then slowly, ever so slowly, it dies down, and the beat becomes slower and duller, and with every beat, I feel closer to death. "I just want you to know that you can save me." And then, I freeze again.


	3. I can save you - Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters present in this fanfiction or Hetalia**

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"I...I can save you? B-but... but you're dead!" I shout, to what I realise must sound and look like myself. This is pointless... this is crazy! He is dead! He can't be alive! His injuries were far too great... It just doesn't make sense!

"You can save me, Arthur. You can save me from the dead."

I... I can save him _from_ the dead? "You mean... I can resurrect you?"

There was a silence... but then his image appeared in front of me, in the mirror. I spin around with a hopeful smile on my face just waiting to see him there... but he is not. With a look of confusion I turn back to the mirror, only to see his reflection once again, looking at the ground. He's looking down, avoiding eye contact, but now he's seen me he looks directly into my eyes and plants a smile on his face. I attempt a smile back, but it only makes my sadness appear greater; I can see it in the mirror. I turn away.

He breaks the silence. "It may be hard... There is something you have to do first."

"What do I have to do?"

"You have to find a book, Arthur."

"A book? How... how will that help?"

"It has a note you need that's inside of it." I can't help think about how he is... avoiding the question, almost. He turns his head away from me for a few seconds, and then turns back with a smile.

I smile back, but only slightly. By this point I have stopped concentrating on his words and... I've started listening to the sound of his voice. This situation seems... unbelievable. How is he talking to me? How... how is any of this even happening? I... I must be hallucinating. Yes, that's it. I'm just under a particularly bad spell of it this time. The realisation makes me feel a bit saner but... but like I've just lost a big part of me.

I decide to ask the question bluntly. "Are you... are you real?"

He looks taken aback at first, but then he just smiles. "It must be hard to believe, huh?" He quietly laughs. I briefly smile back, but I don't believe what he says. He cannot be alive. He is dead. I've just gone insane. I've just... I...

"I believe you," I say. I want to believe him. It must be true.

He looks relieved and smiles brightly at me. "Thank you, but... but will you do what I asked you to?"

"Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I?" Even if he is lying and I really have just lost my mind, I wouldn't deceive myself. And why would Alfred deceive me? He... he died for me... Does that mean he wants me alive or... or does it mean he now wants me dead?

"I...I'm not sure. I was just checking." He says, a little flustered, his smile fading. "But, if you do want to help me, I suppose I should tell you how, huh?"

I nod, remaining speechless.

He nods back, and starts to talk.


	4. Hello, Francis - Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters present in this fanfiction or Hetalia**

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I... I don't know how he expects me to do this.

I'm sitting in my room, alone. Alfred left at least an hour ago. I pounded my fists on the mirror, demanding he came back, but when he never did, I stopped. I'm still waiting by the dresser now... just hoping... just hoping. But hoping won't make wishes come true.

Alfred asked me to find the book, find the note and then simply read it. That was it. The book is apparently somewhere in Mayfield Road, which is surprisingly quite nearby. When he told me I didn't know why it was there or even how it got there, which led me to the next question I asked him.

"_But... but why is the book there?"_

"_Because, I put it there."_

"_What? Couldn't you have brought it to me, here?"_

"_Of course not. It was there before –" _

I don't want to think about the rest again.

He then disappeared shortly after, and left me shouting and screaming to a mirror. It makes me feel delusional just thinking about it... I must have seemed it, as well.

I've decided to start searching for the book today. I didn't plan on going to work, it's only a part-time job, anyway; somebody can fill me in. So, with that in mind, I grab my coat and slip on a pair of boots. I walk toward the door and, just as I place my hand on the handle, I can hear a knocking coming from the other side. "Alfred?" I shout gleefully, pulling the door open with as much force and speed as I can wield. However, much to my darkened disappointment, it is not Alfred. It is anyone but.

"Oh," I mutter, looking at my feet, then up again to meet his eyes. "Hello, Francis."

"Hello." He replies, looking me in the eyes with a look of confusion and... sympathy? "I came to talk to you, nothing bad, it's just... Will you let me come in?"

I nod and stand aside, beckoning him to walk through the door. He swiftly does so and I close the door behind him, with the knowledge that I am about to lose minutes, hours even, of precious time I could be using to help Alfred. But I suppose I do deserve it, I did after all not turn up to work today, expecting no consequences. But here he is, my boss and neighbour, Francis, here to get his pay back.

I offer him a seat on my sofa and he takes it. He is about to speak when I interrupt to go make tea. Perhaps if I act so rudely he'll leave faster, I think, as I head to the kitchen and get two cups and two coasters from the cupboard above me. Though, just as I put the kettle on and wait for it to boil I realise that this will only delay Francis further, so I go to join him in the living room again.

"Sorry about the delay, Francis, the tea will be done soon," I mutter as I sit down beside him. "What was it you wanted to talk about?" Although I had just posed this question I already knew the answer.

"I wanted to talk about your friend, Arthur. I realise that it has been tough on you."

Perhaps I didn't know the answer, then.

"O-oh, I thought this was about me missing work today..." I mutter, barely managing to control the shake in my voice. My hands begin to tremble. I don't want this conversation... I don't want to talk about this with anybody, not now, not ever. I look away from Francis' gaze but I know he continues to look at me long after.

"That isn't important; although I shouldn't have, I paid you in full for today, Arthur, so please, do not worry about that." He says with a smile, placing his hand on my shoulder. I assume he is trying to stop me from shaking but it isn't working, in fact it is making me shake more, so I wait for him to pull his hand away. But he doesn't.

"I-I have to leave, I have some very important business to attend," I say, instantly regretting saying what I just had once I read it through in my mind.

"Important enough to miss work for, Arthur?" Francis says, venom in his voice, tightening his grip subtly but noticeably on my shoulder. I shouldn't have invited him in. I have to leave. I have to leave _now_. I push myself up off of the sofa but he pulls me down again. I turn to face him, fear in my eyes, but find that he is full of sympathy again, and sympathy alone.

"I need to talk to you about the root of the problem, Arthur. You missed work today because you're finding it hard to cope," he says, most likely pausing to see if this was true. When I don't react he continues. "I know he means a lot to you, which is why I am here to talk you through it, if that's okay. I would really like to help you, Arthur, for your own benefit." He says. Once I am sure he has finished I start to stand up again, which he lets me do this time, and I take a step back.

"Thank you, Francis, but I really do need to go." I say, a little more confidently now, and turn to head to the door. But then I am reminded of one small thing I am forgetting about.

I and Francis turn our heads toward the kitchen, where I had just heard a definite clicking sound.

"Oh, before I leave, Arthur, would you mind if I enjoy your delicious tea?"

And with that I leave for the kitchen and return with a tray, wasting more and more precious time, topped with a plate of biscuits, two coasters and two goddamned cups of tea.


	5. Only, Alfred didn't - Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters present in this fanfiction or Hetalia**

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I know I am about to fall, but it is too late to stop myself.

It all happens so quickly. The tray falls to the floor, china smashing into tiny fragments, leading the tea to start running all over the carpet. I plummet to the floor, instantly putting my arms out to shield my face. But this is a mistake. The boiling liquid of the tea burns at the bare skin at the back of my arms, forcing me to let out a shriek of agony and instantly crawl away, rubbing at my now red-raw skin. I get up and run into the bathroom, letting the cooling water run over them. The intense burning pain lessens, but only partially.

I hear Francis call me, asking me if I am okay. I don't reply.

I look down at the red haze all over the skin of my arms, masking the scars and scabs that were there before. I think back to when I was almost hit in the road beforehand. And now, I remember everything Alfred did for me. And now... and now I remember what I set out to do.

I turn off the tap and quickly turn out of the bathroom and head toward the front door. I notice on my way through that Francis... is gone. I stop walking and look around, also noticing that the tea tray and its contents are still all scattered on the carpet. Where... where is Francis? I briefly turn toward the kitchen to check if he is getting towels for the tea, but he isn't. Now I start to concentrate, I can hear muffled sounds coming from my bedroom. Why... why would he be in there?

I edge toward my bedroom door quietly and cautiously, trying to not alert him of my presence, when I start to make out his blurred voice.

"_Arthur... _" I freeze. It... it sounds like... "_...I know we had trouble last night but we can make it work!"_

I burst into the room, making my presence known. He momentarily freezes, but then turns around to meet my eyes, a look of guilt and fear. I storm up to him, but then am interrupted again.

_Beep. _

"_Arthur... I told you, I want to work things out! Why won't you answer me? I know I shouted at you, but... come on, Arthur... you're overreacting..."_

_Beep._

"_If you don't answer the phone I am calling the police. I have tried to be nice with you but you just won't be nice to me, will you? "_

_Beep._

"_I swear to god I will come for you if you don't pick up! I'm serious, Arthur. If you don't pick up in the next ten seconds..."_

_Beep._

"_That's it, I'm coming over! If I do anything you only have yourself to blame!"_

Before anything else can be heard I see Francis, leaning forward to the answer phone, ending the playback of Alfred's messages.

I hold my breath, not wanting to make a sound. I should have never let Francis come into my home; that is all I am sure of.

"Arthur..." Francis mutters once more, staring at me with a look of disbelief. And a slight hint of guilt. "I know he meant a lot to you, but... Arthur..." I look away. Why did this have to happen? This is...this is... "Arthur, I'm going to tell you w-why I really visited you. I ... You know, I was always quite c-concerned, I heard him shouting awhile back a-and you were crying and now you're in such a state..." I let him speak no longer. How dare he insult me and _my_ Alfred! How _dare_ he!

I suddenly launch forward and grab him by the sleeve of his shirt and forcefully drag him through my flat. "I-I can arrange something, Arthur! To h-help you!" he pleads, trying to sound in the least understanding. But his _façade is wearing thin. He's always tried to feed me this crap but I'll pretend to listen no more. I stop pulling him and open my front door, moving him in front of it and pushing him out with as much force as I could gather. He spins around, stumbling slightly, and looks deeply shocked and shaken with fear. _

_"A-Arthur-_" he stutters, trying to get the words out of his mouth, but I interrupt him. The door slams in his face and I turn to lean my back against it, only briefly running through what he said in my mind.

"That manipulative little son of a... 'such a state'! What is he talking about? For all the things he's done to me..." I mutter to myself. But now I realise. Francis always _tried_ to help me. Only, Alfred didn't.


	6. It all came flooding back - Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters present in this fanfiction or Hetalia**

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When Francis left I started to consider how deluded I might actually be.

Once I'd reached the car park I sat in the driver's seat, started the engine and began my journey to Mayfield Road, like I'd planned to before.

Once I found myself passing a sign post labelled with the road name in question I found myself with an increasingly painful aching lump stuck in my throat. I pulled over at the roadside, looked directly ahead, and realised where I was. _This_ was Mayfield Road. And then it all came flooding back to me.

"_What are you doing, Alfred? I told you not to follow me." I said, half-pouting, walking along the path._

_He sighed, moving closer behind me as his pace picked up. "Look, Arthur, I know we got into a fight last night but I want to work it out."_

_I picked up the pace further. "I'm going to work, Alfred. You know how Francis has been complaining about me at home; I can't have him complaining about me at work, too."_

"_What are you even talking about, Arthur? When has your boss complained about us at home?" he questioned, attempting to move from behind to next to me. I didn't answer but I assumed by that point he had already figured it out. I blocked him, suddenly starting to walk sideways, toward the road. Toward the oncoming traffic._

_He suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the roadside edge, causing me to stumble backwards into his chest. _

"_What has Mr Bonnefoy been saying about me?" he shouted, glaring down at me. _

"_I never said he was saying anything about you, did I, you stupid git?" I shouted, forcibly stepping out of his way, pushing him. _

"_Well, that's what he meant, isn't it?" He shouted back in return. I didn't reply. He narrowed his eyes and his eyebrows lowered, pointing inwards, his teeth gritted. "Isn't it!" he shouted again. It wasn't a question anymore. _

_When I stayed unresponsive he continued to shake me until I copied his expression, looking up at him. I could tell that although he was taller than me, he didn't feel stronger. He never did, despite the mask he put on. I could sense his tough act was fading when he started to loosen his grip. But I pushed back. And he pushed me back harder. _

_I stumbled backwards, reaching out for his hand, but he didn't seem to genuinely foresee what was about to happen. I continued to stumble backwards beyond the point of return, trying to grab onto anything, anyone in front of me that could save me. But I was alone. Alfred couldn't help me now, even if he wanted to; it was too late. Nobody was reaching out for me as I fell backwards in the direct path of the oncoming traffic. Nobody. I thought of my family, as I was just centimetres away from a car that passed by in a matter of seconds, which was shortly replaced by another that did exactly the same. My family wouldn't have saved me. They would have lied about it later, about how they tried to help, but I was just out of reach. About how they couldn't, not how they didn't. _

_In what was to be my last moment I looked away from Alfred. I wanted to spare him the added guilt, as much as I loathed him from time-to-time, and how he didn't grab my hand to save me when he could have, he did take my hand once. I was alone, but because of him some of this has been bearable. At least that was comforting. At least—_

"_Arthur!" I heard him shout in realisation. I glanced at him without thinking, and tried to put on a bright enough smile in the few seconds I had left, attempting to atone for my mistake, in hope that that would spare him the guilt. I already knew it wouldn't. He leaped toward me._

_I took a sharp intake of breath. I let out a weak cry, a whimper, not wanting it all to end, wanting someone to help me. But there was nobody to save me. There never was. I braced myself, and-_

_And in that split second, something crashed into me from the side. It was all over in an instant. I was miraculously alive, but only a result of someone else being dead. _

I feel a tear finally fall from my eye, rolling down my cheek. Why has he sent me here... why?

I glance into the rear-view mirror and see Alfred, staring emotionlessly back at me. I look away again. I begin to mutter to myself. "What am I even thinking? He didn't send me here. I sent myself here. He's not real... he's just a piece of my delusional mind come back to haunt me. Or... maybe show me what Francis said was..." I look back in the mirror, where Alfred continues to stare at me blankly. I gulp, and finish what I was about to say. "True."

I silently think about what I had just done. "It took me so much courage to even talk badly about you, Alfred, and you don't even know what Francis said." I think back to what I had said before the crash.

"_When has your boss complained about us at home?" _

"...I suppose maybe you did know, then." I mumble, looking down at myself.

I look toward the rear-view mirror again and see him, in an almost identical position, staring back at me. "Francis and I are right, Alfred. You never did help me." But for the first time he blinks. And then, copying his exact motions, I do the same. Then, he surprises me. He starts to talk.

"You were the one who pushed me first, Arthur... You were the one who always shouted at me and complained at me and felt that you could get away with anything just because you _looked_ weaker! You beat me about and nobody on the street said a word, and neither did any of our neighbours when you made my life _hell_ at night! _Nobody_ cared about me, Arthur! Nobody! I didn't even have a family to go back to! You... you were the only person I knew so I latched onto you and didn't want to ever let you go. If I didn't... If I didn't I'd be completely alone... Even if you pushed me about I just dealt with it, even though I wanted you to be a better person, because... because I had to! I pushed back so you wouldn't push anymore!" he shouts.

I continue to stare back, even as tears start rushing down his face. I don't believe him. I never will. I was foolish to fall under his spell once and I won't do it again. He is cold to the core, a monster. It's just in his nature and I hate him for it, I always have. I breathe in and out deeply just once.

"You only pushed back because you wanted to, none of your 'defence' bullshit," I say, making sure I sound calm. "You liked to see me cry. It's all part of your twisted –"

"Just _shut up_, Arthur!" My eyes widen. I... He... Did he just– "You think you're the better person but you're just a monster! I've been trying to escape you for years but I could never bring myself to do it because I'd be–"

"–_Alone_! It's just the same bullshit round and round with you. Stop repeating your bullshit speech, Alfred, I've heard it a hundred times before and I'm sure I'll hear it another hundred as well! All of what you say is lies! It's _all_ lies! You're just a monster who puts on this _façade to try and trick me and shove yourself under everyone's radar, but guess what? _It _failed_! Everybody already knows what you've done, Alfred! They hear you screaming at night, and they saw you push me in front of that car!" I shriek to the mirror, turning around in an attempt to catch the hurt on his face. But... but I just then remember that I'm alone.

I turn around to look out of the passenger window and see two strangers staring at me with widened eyes, one clutching onto the other's arm, and then when they see me looking they run. They run as fast as they can away from _me_. _Not_ _Alfred_, not _anyone_ else. _Me_. I start to consider what this means but quickly dispel the thoughts and open the car door, stepping out and locking it.

As I look up and down either side of the road I know instantly which one I am suppose to enter. It looks identical to the other terraced houses all lined up side by side, but I know it is that one. I recall Alfred telling me of how he had moved houses a few weeks before the accident. In fact, the day before the accident I had been rooming there to get away from Francis, hoping that would dispel his persistent complaints at work. But it only made him worry more.

I sigh, staring almost absently into the mirror on the side of the car.

"We used to get on so well..."

"Did we?"


	7. I don't know Alfred at all - Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters present in this fanfiction or Hetalia**

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"_Where can I put my stuff?" I said, my rucksack slung over my shoulder, carrying another few plastic bags you would expect to find in a supermarket. _

_Alfred walked over to me and slipped my rucksack off of my shoulder and slung it onto his, as well as taking all of the bags out of my hands and walking back the way he came. _

"_Hey!" I said, calling after him. He stopped walking and turned around to face me. "I asked you where to put it, not for you to take it, you idiot."_

_He stayed motionless for a second but then started to laugh at me. "What's wrong with you? Do you want them back?" I nodded, blushing slightly, and looked toward the ground. "Alright then."_

_He strode back over to me and gave me all the plastic bags back. "Hey!" I said again as he started to walk away, making him turn around again. "Don't make me take all of them, you stupid git. You haven't even told me where to put them yet!"_

_He walked back over to me and snatched the bags out of my hands. "You know, you don't have to call me an idiot or a git or whatever else."_

"_Well, I did. What are you going to do about it?" I said in a serious tone. I inwardly smiled. It felt nice having the upper hand sometimes, even if it was just in fun and games. I was never used to it, especially when I was a child, but with Alfred it was easy; he's such a pushover at heart. _

_He looked at me, his eyes slightly narrowed, but then he smiled. I smiled back, but I saw his slowly deteriorate. Mine followed suit. _

_Maybe... maybe what I was saying was hurting him... but he knew it was just jokes, didn't he? I... I never said those things to hurt him. I pondered on it for awhile but stopped eventually to go catch up with him. _

_I just won't say those things anymore, I told myself. But it was lies. All lies. I never could keep a promise._

I knock on the door to the house, but then am not surprised when there's no answer. With the amount of times I see him daily... hear him daily... I keep forgetting that he isn't actually here.

I dig in my pockets, and surprisingly find a key that isn't for my flat. I try it in the lock and with a light push the door opens. I peak around the corner to the door, take one last look back at the outside world, and step inside.

It's surprisingly light in this room considering it's bordering dusk and there's no electricity, but I don't have time to think about that. I have to find that book.

Where would Alfred keep such a precious book? If he didn't know he was going to... pass... then it wouldn't necessarily be somewhere obvious for me to find. Maybe it is hidden, if it is so valuable and important... Maybe... Maybe it doesn't exist at all? I mean, Alfred never told me about the book itself... How could a book have the power to raise the dead, anyway? I've never read about such a thing in all of the books on folklore and the supernatural I own... But I promised him I would find it and it won't be a promise I'll break. I... I need to save Alfred, no matter what.

I start to walk aimlessly throughout the first floor to his house but it is pointless; there's nothing here. It looks as though he hadn't even unpacked half of his stuff from when he moved houses. Boxes are stacked high on top of each other in every corner, and furniture is just lazily pushed to the side with minimal effort to arranging it.

It's as if he didn't plan on staying here at all...

I dispel the thoughts immediately. Why would Alfred be moving out again, after such a short period of time? But, in the back of my mind, something is eating away at me. I try and believe my theory but I know it's untrue. I shake my head again and start to make my way up the stairs. Surprisingly, there are only three doors.

I open the first door. Inside is what must be a bathroom. It's refreshing; everything is actually where it is supposed to be, no boxes laying around or anything. But... the cupboard door is ajar.

I move in to close it, and with the slightest touch, a single white bottle falls out. W-what's this?

I open up the bottle and hold it, the front just touching my hand. A single pill falls out. I suddenly start to feel a bit ill.

I turn the bottle around in my hand and see it labelled with many words I don't know in bold, and then on the back, 'antidepressants'. Anti... depressants? When did he start taking those?

I stare at the now-empty bottle and the single pill in my palm. I take a deep breath and open the cupboard doors fully. And what I now see is my _worst_ nightmare.

Rows and rows of bottles are lined up, tucked away behind other basic medication. I see... I see it clearly now. And to think, I came in here just days before the accident and I didn't see a thing. How... how was I so blind? I couldn't blame this one on Alfred, as much as I would have liked to... but it couldn't be my fault, either! I mean, he did only recently lose his job and was just settling into a new environment, and he hates change... doesn't he?

A dark thought starts to dawn on me. _I don't know Alfred at all._


	8. You can't save me - Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters present in this fanfiction or Hetalia**

* * *

I enter the next room, ignoring what I saw in the bathroom, which appears to be some kind of study.

This room is by far the most un-kept; boxes are stacked to the ceiling in every corner. Strangely, however, in the middle of the room sits a large wooden desk with a matching chair behind it. Orange and red light beams from the windows, barely being covered by a set of blinds, producing streaky lines on the floor and desk.

As I step in closer I see something I cannot believe.

A small book sits in the centre of the desk, a small bookmark just poking out of the top of it.

That... that _can't_ be the book, can it? It's... it's just an ordinary book!

After hesitating slightly I step forward, retrieving the book and carefully examining it. The front cover is plain with no writing on whatsoever. I flip the book over. So is the back. The pages...I start to flip through the book. I can feel my eyebrows draw closer together and lower and my eyes narrow. I stop flipping through the book. The pages are blank as ... what is happening?

I continue to flip through the book until I reach the bookmarked page, where a piece of folded up paper sits tucked inside, along with some untidy writing scrawled at the top of the page: _Arthur_... or maybe it says _Alfred_? I am unsure. But either way Alfred wanted me to read this, so, I start.

I set the book down on the desk and unfold the paper, holding it out in my hands. I instantly notice that the note is... surprisingly short. A cold sweat starts to come over me, a lot more intense than any I've had before, and my hands start to shake. The paper starts to move too much for me to concentrate on any of the words, so I let out a nervous sigh and sit myself down on the chair behind the desk, pushing the book to the back and laying the paper out in front of me. Then, I begin to read.

_Arthur,_

What I read next makes me bring up all my nerves. I vomit all over the floor, and then, in horror, re-read what I just read, making sure it said what I thought it did.

_It's impossible. You can't save me. _


	9. The end - Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters present in this fanfiction or Hetalia**

* * *

It's impossible? B-but... I... I don't understand! I grip my hands on the paper and pull it close to my eyes, the paper now shaking violently again.

_It's impossible. You can't save me. _

I read it again.

_It's __**impossible**__. __**You**__**can't**__ save me. _

I read it again.

_**It's impossible. You can't save me. **_

I read it again and again and again until all the words start to blur in my mind. Like a broken record.

I run into the last room, Alfred's bedroom, clutching the note tightly in my hand, for anymore books, anymore letters, _anything_. But there is nothing.

I start to grab boxes and throw them at the wall. Papers and glass and ornaments start to smash and crash and cover themselves on everything in the room. Tears start to rush down my face but I ignore them. I keep throwing things around his room until I look down at the mess I have created, and fall to my knees, putting a hand up to my face.

I look down at the note again, which is now crumpled up into a tight ball. I start to slowly undo the paper and look over the note, not really taking in the writing. Until I read one word. _Unless._

I quickly start to read through the note again.

_Arthur,_

_It's impossible. You can't save me._

_It's impossible, unless you do something I could never expect of you. You have to stop me from saving you, Arthur. _

_If you do that, I will be alive. _

I pull the note away from my eyes, and look down. I... I can do it. I said I'd do anything to help him and I'll stay true to my promise. Even... even if it does mean the end for me... He saved my life, and I should be able to do the same for him now! I look down at the paper again.

_But it isn't that easy._

_I know I will always save you no matter what. Whatever you or anyone else says to me, I always will. I just wanted you to know that before you do what I ask of you, or not, next._

_I want you to make it so we never met. If we never meet, I wouldn't feel like I have to risk my life for you. It isn't about being brave or heroic, Arthur. Not anymore. It's about putting someone else's life before yours. And I think I have done that with you. _

_I hope you can give up something as simple as knowing me. It shouldn't impact your life too much. You'll still have your job and your house and you'll be a lot happier as well. _

_And I thought I should tell you this now: I lied to you, Arthur. I put this note here after I saved you. I just couldn't face you with this stuff; I thought I'd say it better in writing. _

_I'll see you once more, Arthur. I'll be telling you how to go change things if you accept my offer. If you don't want to accept it then please just tell me that and I'll leave you to your life. _

And that's where it ended. He didn't even sign it, as if he wasn't even the one to write it... I watch as the ink starts to run where one of my tears fell. I quickly wipe it off with my sleeve but it only smudges the ink, making it worse. I... I should get this over with. The longer I wait the harder it will be for me to do. I fold up the note and stuff it in my pocket, and then I run.

I quickly leave the house, lock the front door and run down the lane to reach my car. I open the driver's door and jump into the seat, slamming the door shut. Now I stare into the rear-view mirror.

Alfred hasn't moved since we argued about half an hour ago, but he is no longer teary and his then-blotchy face has now returned to normal. I have a lot to say to him, and he certainly has a lot to say to me, but we stay silent. I break the ice.

"I accept your offer, Alfred." I say, adding a nod to it, to clarify I am certain about my decision.

He nods in return, looks to the ground, and looks back up with a smile. I don't return the gesture. I have something very serious on my mind. I speak.

"Alfred... when did you start taking antidepressants?"

He suddenly looks stunned, his smile quickly fading. But it doesn't turn into a frown. I see him try to act as if he didn't hear me, but when I continue to stare, he finally clears his throat and replies.

"I went to the doctor and they prescribed me... those." he says, coughing the last word up. He always acts so distantly. I don't know why he always has to keep secrets when it's not necessary. Why can't he just trust me?

"Why didn't you tell me?" I say with a little more venom than I may have intended. Or maybe not. But now I've started this conversation it _has _to be ended, no matter what the means may be.

"Everyone can have their secrets, right?" he quietly laughs. But his voice shakes towards the end.

I narrow my eyes. "_Why _did the doctor prescribe you them?"

"B-because... because I didn't feel myself..."

"_Why?_"

"B-because..." he starts to choke on his own words.

"_Why, _Alfred?" I persist.

"Because you always act like this! You just don't ever know when to stop!" he suddenly blurts out. I don't know whether I should think this but he just sounds pathetic. I see his face start to go blotchy and his eyes start to go red again. I don't know whether to stop or not... but I feel an overwhelming desire to continue. He needs this. I'm not a monster. I'm only doing it for his sake. It's... it's _always _been for his sake.

"I don't stop because I want to _help_ you, Alfred. Why can't you ever accept my help and accept me as trusting? I _want _to trust you but... it's so hard because you don't ever trust _me_..." I say, staring at him directly in his eyes. Did... did it work?

He continues to stare, and then a single tear rolls down his cheek. I... I don't know what I've done. Is... is he happy or–

"It's never been about me." He mumbles, another tear falling from his eye.

"Of course it has! It's always been about you!" I shout back. How could he accuse me of this, after all I've down to help him in the past?

He stays silent and finally takes a deep breath, opening his mouth, but then lets go of the air again.

He looks up to me, his mouth a hard line, and then nods. "I said I'd help you and a deal's a deal." He says, surprisingly solemnly, parting my gaze.

He'll... He'll help me anyway? But then I scowl. "You only want to help me because you're helping yourself."

I glare at him, expecting to see him shout, cry, fight back. But he only nods again.

I stay silent, waiting for him to do anything, but he does the same as me. _Why_ won't he say anything? _Why_ won't he _fight back_?

He starts to speak very calmly. "You'll need to trust me in order to..." his words start to float away from him, but then he regains his voice. "You'll need to trust me to help me. Is... is that something you can do?"

I nod, saying nothing, waiting for him to continue.

He starts talking again. "You'll have to take this," he says, waving his hand in the air. But... he was holding _nothing_.

"Take what? You're not holding anything," I say, regrettably stating the obvious. What... does he mean... does he mean for me to take–

"My hand," he mutters, looking down at it. "You need to take my hand."

I am speechless. How is taking his hand going to help? Can I... can I even _touch _his hand?

"How do you intend for me to even do that? I can't... I can't even _see_ you, let alone _feel_ you!"

I reach behind me and start waving my hand around the general direction I imagine Alfred must be sitting around. I feel nothing _at all_.

"But you did it before, if you remember... when... when I first met you in your room... when you really did want to help me... or so I thought." he mutters.

I see him do the same motion in the mirror, but again, I feel nothing.

Is... is that why I can't feel him? I... I don't want to help him anymore? But... "But I promised I'd help you, isn't that good enough?" I ask, sounding a least a little concerned for him. Or... or just for my guilty conscience...

"No, Arthur, I'm afraid not. You... you have to truly believe it. They're just words, Arthur. They don't always mean what you want them to." I suddenly freeze.

I... I've broken promises before, but... but I was only calling him silly names! It was all fun and games, wasn't it? "_They don't always mean what you want them to."_

I look up, trying to force myself to want to help him but... but it just isn't there. I...

I burst into tears, covering my eyes.

I... I want to help him, don't I? Why... why wouldn't I? He was always there for me and I was always there for him... It... it's enough, isn't it? I... it was love wasn't it? It... it...

"_This sort of 'love' you share with Alfred... it just isn't healthy!" my brother shouted at me, centimetres from my face. _

"_You never support me, Dylan! You never did when we were kids! You always picked on me, just like Allistor; why should it be any different now!" _

"_Because this is serious, Arthur, you idiot! He could push too far one day, at any time!"_

"_And what if he does do something like that, huh? Why would you or anyone else even care?"_

"_Because you'll end up dead!" _

But... but I didn't end up dead. I'm alive, aren't I? This is what living is, isn't it?

And now my own words start to dawn on me. This _isn't_ living. This _isn't_ living _at all_.

I look toward Alfred again. My vision is still blurry but I see him, staring at me, _as always_.

I'm... I'm responsible for his death. This isn't how I want to be living, my life filled with endless torment and guilt. He's guilt-tripped me into this for his own benefit but I don't care anymore. I just want this to end. I want everything to go back to the way it was, before the hallucinations, before the accident, before the arguing and the shouting and the crying, before...

Before Alfred. I want to restart before I _ever met Alfred_.

I reach out for his hand again, half-expecting nothing to happen. But that half is wrong.

I feel his hand brush on mine, and I truly look at him face-to-face, not through a mirror or anything else. This is the first time I've seen him eye-to-eye for a long time. This is the last time, too.

I don't immediately sense anything happen, but my concentration on trying to notice any changes is broken.

"I just want you to know, Arthur, that you shouldn't ever try to meet me again, or even let it happen coincidentally. If you see me then just walk in the opposite direction. You have to, okay? Even if you don't want to or it's to your inconvenience, you have to promise me to walk away. I... we don't want things to end up like this again."

I nod, for once truly agreeing with him, trying to get a better grasp on his hand. I think a single, what-must-be awful thought.

_That's a promise I will never break. _

**That is the last time I imagine I will ever be so close to Alfred again. **_**So**__**close**_**... yet **_**so far**_**. **

**This is the end.**


	10. EPILOGUE & AUTHOR'S NOTES - Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters present in this fanfiction or Hetalia**

* * *

_I have been sent back to the year I first met Alfred, when I was fifteen, at the start of a new school year. _

I enter the school.

_I don't know how long I have to stay in the past, but I'm hoping I go back when I stop the first meeting of me and Alfred._

I walk into the foyer, checking a sheet I am given with my timetable for the year on it, and my tutor group.

_I don't know whether he'll remember me or not, whether he's trying to do the same, but I should be cautious. Alfred did tell me to never let him see me, after all. _

I make my way around the school, until I find the right classroom.

_I mean, what if I blurt out something stupid, or even do something that will remind him of who I am? Then he'll remember everything. And that would mess up __**everything**__, I mean, how would I react if I saw someone I'd never met, but already knew who they were? I think..._

I knock on the door. Then I remember what happens in this instant.

_**I think I'd go insane. **_

I quickly run down the hallway away from the classroom at lightning speed. I hear the door swing open but I don't dare look back. I have to prevent this. This can't happen. If this happens I have failed. If this happens...

"Er, dude, was that you?" I hear _him _say, and I find myself doing something that's out of my control.

I turn around and look at him. And he looks at me. And suddenly...

_The whole plan is compromised. I've failed. I've..._

"J-Jones!" I find myself blurting out with no thought to it, but now I realise I've been letting him look at me for too long. I see the look of confusion on his face. I turn from his direction to continue running. I keep running and...

_Wait. Oh no... Did I... did I just...?_

"...Arthur... Arthur Kirkland?" he says, sounding slightly horrified and incredibly confused. I stop running.

The whole two-lined conversation starts to ring in my ears.

**...What have I done?**

* * *

Author's notes:

Dude. If you even sat through this train wreck then I am just so grateful. But, this is a first fanfic, and more than anything it is an easy way for me to see my mistakes. So, I thank myself for writing this (despite it's terribleness) and I thank any of you guys who read it, even if you didn't make it to the end (but I thank you ESPECIALLY if you did!) so... yeah. This experience has taught me two things:

1 - Don't try to be epic when you already sort of know you can't pull it off (especially with "emotional" scenes which I failed at)

2 - If you're going to try and work out a plot that is supposed to be powerful, emotional and gripping, don't change it during the story, especially with the use of a plot device such as France (I mean like WHERE WAS I EVEN GOING WITH THAT) so yeah. By which I mean this was originally going to be quite light hearted, showing how Arthur struggled to save somebody he felt he had to, but that failed when I got stuck for ideas so was as pathetic enough in insert abuse to try and get the plot moving (like a total Twilight move what am I even doing I fail at life) so yeah.

When I write fanfics again they won't be so random, they will have a developed plot and they won't be so randomly "dark", or however dark I try and make it unless it's there for a specific reason. I mean... yeah.


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